


Do It All The Time

by grayimperia



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Catholic school AU, Character Study, F/F, Gen, M/M, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-16
Updated: 2019-12-16
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:27:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21812935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grayimperia/pseuds/grayimperia
Summary: “We all know what happens when you stick your neck out.” Claude looks to Hilda and holds out his half eaten communion wafer to her. “Here’s to being cowards?”She smirks and taps the edge of hers against his. “And not getting our heads chopped off.”-Claude and the courage he does and doesn't have.
Relationships: Hilda Valentine Goneril & Claude von Riegan, Lorenz Hellman Gloucester/Claude von Riegan, Marianne von Edmund/Hilda Valentine Goneril
Comments: 15
Kudos: 250





	Do It All The Time

**Author's Note:**

> Modern AU. Catholic (Seiros) School AU.

Edelgard brought a megaphone to school today. 

“We will not be ignored!” she shouts into it, her voice vibrating just loud enough that Claude places his hands over his ears as he strides past her. “As long as we can stand, we will stand against corruption! Our will to fight is what makes us strong, not our blood!”

She and her friends have been at their little protest for a week now, and everyday when Claude slips past them into the front doors of Garreg Mach Academy, one of them tries to hand him a flier listing the school’s various crimes. 

Today it’s Petra. “Claude,” she says, and he turns back on his heel when it’s obvious that he can’t pretend he hadn’t heard her. “You must be reading this. We have to spread awareness of Principal Rhea’s misdoings.”

Claude’s already seen the list. On the first day Edelgard launched her campaign, they had scattered fliers through the halls and taped them to walls by the hundreds before Seteth caught wind and demanded they all be taken down. Lysithea had managed to preserve the one stuck on her locker, and Claude had gathered with the other Golden Deer to read exactly what was wrong with their school. 

None of Edelgard’s accusations against Rhea were surprising—enforcing an inherently unfair hierarchy among the students, handing on privileges based on birthright rather than skill, concealing the school and town church’s various acts of misconduct over the years. Claude didn’t have to be convinced any of those things were happening, but Edelgard’s decision to rally her friends into making signs and fliers and standing outside the school yelling into the void of an uncaring public everyday was a great way to get expelled and little else in his opinion. 

Edelgard found a box to stand on, and she raises one fist in the air to trumpet her message as the rest of the student body walks past her from their dorms to their morning classes. Her other friends all have fliers or hold signs, chanting whatever slogan their teenage think tank must have come up with or going up to people like Claude to bother them. 

He holds up his hands in surrender as Petra shuffles her papers to hand him a flier. “Ooh, sorry, Petra. I’m already running late—maybe later!”

“But classes do not begin until—”

He spins on his heel, and her voice is drowned out by the milling crowd he escapes into. He can still hear Edelgard and her megaphone even as he darts through the heavy academy doors.

“We demand the truth! We demand transparency!”

Claude dodges past a few more students and keeps his head down as he sees Seteth marching side by side with Catherine the opposite way. He feels a little bad for Petra and her impending detention, but he’s also aware that she made her own choice to stick her neck out. 

He quickens his pace to avoid getting caught in whatever havoc is sure to be wrecked when Edelgard is inevitably dragged away kicking and screaming, and ends up vaguely out of breath by the time he slips into class. 

Hilda quirks a brow as soon as he slides into the desk next to her. “Well, isn’t this a surprise.”

“What? I can be on time if I want.”

Her expression only grows more amused. “Oh really, Mr. I’m-skipping-morning-prayer-everyday-until-I-die.”

Claude grins back at her. “What can I say? I’ve seen the light. And what about you, oh ye of little faith?”

“Do you even need to ask? Do you know how much of a chore sitting through one of Seteth’s lectures would be?”

“Shockingly, I have heard tale a time or two—almost like I was there.”

“Um.” From in front of them, Marianne turns around just a fraction to speak over her shoulder. “Would you mind being just a little quieter? We’re about to start…”

“Oh, sorry, Marianne!” Hilda says. “Claude just wouldn’t shut up.”

Claude rolls his eyes and clasps his hands when Professor Manuela instructs them to. He’s never been a strong believer, and he peeks out at the others when they’re all instructed to close their eyes. 

Marianne’s holding her rosary tight. Hilda’s examining her nails and winks when they make eye contact. 

There’s a rise in sound from outside, and Claude directs his limited attention away from the goddess to the classroom windows peeking into the hall. Edelgard and her friends are being marched down the hall, Seteth and Catherine at either side of them like prison guards. 

He shakes his head and looks back at his clasped hands, going through the motions until the goddess has apparently been satisfied enough with their morning song and dance.

Claude still always forgets the second part that comes after the silent prayer. Professor Manuela calls for a student to recite a prayer lead them to the finish line. Hilda taps Marianne’s shoulder and whispers that she should do it. She receives a vicious shake no of her head in return, and instead Lorenz raises his hand and strides to the front of the room with long legs. 

He bows his head and begins to speak his memorized verse with a slow, deliberate, but somehow musical tone of voice. Claude doesn’t pay much attention to the words—just the sound. Lorenz has always been a performer, and he carries the words so well that Claude has to wonder what it would be like if he spoke his own verses instead of Seiros’s.

Then the spell ends, Lorenz returns to his seat, Hilda kicks Claude under their desks, and Professor Manuela reads Principal Rhea’s announcement that anyone who signs a certain petition being passed around will be disciplined. 

-

Thanks to an inappropriate song choice his sophomore year, Claude managed to get the glee club shut down and the choir room is empty during lunch. 

“You know,” Hilda says. “I’ve always wanted to, like, recline on a piano like this like on those album covers. You know where—”

Claude snorts. “You’d absolutely break it.”

Hilda swats his shoulder. “No! I’m light and dainty. And stop hogging all the wafers.” She reaches over him, rummaging for one of the remaining communion wafers left in the package Claude stole from an unlocked cabinet when they were assigned to dust the chapel. 

“Not if you keep stuffing your face—”

“Excuse me—these are _holy_. How can _holy_ snacks make you gain weight? Actually, how many calories are these?”

Claude flips the package over to scan for its label. “I have to say, it feels vaguely sacrilegious to say the body of Saint Seiros contains zero percent of my daily protein.”

“It’s not the body until it’s blessed or something,” Hilda says. “Then it becomes the body. Of course, I’m not sure what I should expect from the guy who thought the goddess’s banquet was celebrating the Fodlan Harvest—”

“Honest mistake,” Claude says. “Listen, where I’m from, we just don’t talk about these things.”

“And you’re from…?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Claude winks. Hilda rolls her eyes and crinkles the plastic wrap around the wafers too aggressively as she grabs another handful. 

“Honestly, though,” she says, crumbs flying from her mouth. “You wanna know what’s sacrilegious? Checking out Lorenz when he’s reciting the goddess’s prayer of obedience and submission.”

“Is that what that was? Kinky.”

“Claude!” he earns another smack to his shoulder. “But seriously. It’s getting super annoying—”

“—as annoying as watching you suck up to Marianne?”

Hilda shakes her head, her pigtails whipping back and forth against Claude’s shoulder. “That’s different. You know she’s, like, super religious and stuff. We both know how well that would go.”

“And Lorenz is a heathen like us?”

“No, well kinda,” she says. “He’s not actually that into it. He’s just a suck up, especially to Professor Manuela. He thinks if he kisses her ass enough, she’ll give him the lead in the musical. It’s getting really stupid, too. I saw him bringing flowers to her office one day.”

“Really?”

“Well, yeah. He actually really liked the glee club, you know, especially since he can never get the lead in the musicals.”

“And that is why it’ll never work out between us,” Claude says with a dramatic flourish of his arms. “He loved the glee club, and I burned it to the ground.”

“Okay, good point.”

“Who knew Seteth would have such a problem with _Like a Prayer_?”

“Claude, it wasn’t _Like a Prayer_. It was _Like a Virgin_.”

“Nope, that’s not the official story, and as long as the official story is that I didn’t know the difference, I have enough plausible deniability to not get expelled.”

Hilda rolls her eyes. “As if that would even bother you. You hate it here.”

“Hate’s a strong word. And besides, even you have to admit that’s more trouble than it’s worth. Just imagine your brother’s face if you—”

“ _God_.”

“See? A few lies make everything better.”

Hilda leans back in her seat, kicking her feet up on the chair in front of her. “Well, whatever. If Edelgard keeps up, the bar for expulsion is probably gonna have to be raised anyway. Maybe then you can come clean.”

“Never.”

She flicks him. “Coward.”

Claude places his hands over his heart. “Wounded.”

“Whatever.” 

“Also, if you’re going to call me a coward, then you have to admit that you are just as much of one.”

“Yeah, but on me it’s cute.”

“Only to people who don’t know you.”

“You’re so rude. I can see why Lorenz doesn’t like you.”

“And Marianne won’t like you if you keep being a bully.”

Hilda sticks her tongue out at him. 

They sit in silence for a while, passing the increasingly diminishing number of wafers back and forth. 

“You know,” Claude says after a time. “Someone should probably tell Lorenz he doesn’t need to suck up to Professor Manuela to get in the play. I mean, even you could probably get the lead this year.”

“Well, I am a great dancer, so you’re not wrong. But Dorothea and Ferdinand are her favorites, so no one has a chance until they graduate. Not like I really or anything care, though. It’s way too much work, and getting up on a stage in front of a whole audience of people who expect you to, like, be good at something? Um, no thanks.”

“It’s a high school play. They’re not expecting much.”

“Still, though. Not for me.”

“But if it was, you totally could—you and Lorenz. Dorothea and Ferdinand aren’t going to be allowed this year.”

Hilda furrows her brow to think for a moment before she reaches the same conclusion as Claude. “Oh, yeah. You’re probably right.” She shrugs. “I feel kind of bad for them, but they had to know it was coming when they joined the protests; there’s no way they couldn’t have.”

“Yeah, that’s what happens when you stick your neck out.” He looks to Hilda and holds out his half eaten wafer to her. “Here’s to being cowards?”

She smirks and taps the edge of hers against his. “And not getting our heads chopped off.” 

-

“I don’t think they’re being totally unreasonable,” Lysithea says. She’s holding one of Edelgard’s fliers—this copy a list of demands. “If you actually read what they’re asking for, it’s not a lot. In fact, I’m a bit shocked we aren’t already doing these things.”

Claude’s struggling with taking his stuff out of his locker for the end of the day without everything in the mountain of accumulated junk raining down on him. He’s stuck only half listening to Lysithea as she goes on. “Uh-huh.”

“I’m honestly surprised they’re getting so little support,” she says. “If everyone stopped to see what they’re saying, I think everyone would agree. Like, see, this point here. ‘We call for the abolishment of academic classes for Crest bearing students only as they are a blatant statement of inequality.’ Who doesn’t agree with that? In fact, I bet we’re the only school left in all of Fodlan who still recognize Crests when it comes to academic performance.”

“Garreg Mach’s a private school, Lysi. They can do what they want.”

“But that doesn’t mean we should just let them get away with it, especially if our parents are shelling out thousands in tuition fees. Just imagine what that must be like for students like Raphael and Leonie to save up to come here and then be barred from some of the best classes. Also don’t call me Lysi.”

“Sorry, Lysi.”

“Claude,” she huffs.

“Sorry, sorry,” he says, finally freeing his bag and turning his attention towards her. “And, yeah, I agree with you. Still, I don’t think it’s worth getting caught up in all that.”

Lysithea crosses her arms. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, that if you or me or Raphael or Leonie started saying all that a little louder, we’d get in a lot of trouble. And then that means they’d have saved up a lot to come here just to get kicked out.”

She frowns, staring down at the paper in her hands. “I guess. But Edelgard hasn’t gotten kicked out yet.”

“Yeah, and your family and my family aren’t Edelgard’s family,” Claude says. He carefully plucks the paper from Lysithea’s hands, and she lets it go without protest. “And we have to take care of ourselves, so don’t let anyone see you with this.”

Lysithea’s mouth twists into a frown, but her only protest is a quieter, “I guess…”

Claude’s about to respond with more reassurances when he feels a hand clap against his shoulder and an only semi-familiar voice next to his ear. “Hey, von Riegan, right?”

Claude blinks and barely manages to place a name to the red head in front of him. “Yeah. Need something?”

While Claude tries to present a friendly front to the person he barely knows, Lysithea crosses her arms a bit tighter and hikes up her shoulders as if gearing up for battle. “Sylvain, neither of us are interested.”

Sylvain glances down to her with a laugh. “Thanks for letting me know, but neither of you are my type. I just wanted to give your friend some friendly advice _as a friend_ , so no need to bite my head off or anything, alright?”

Lysithea still bristles in his direction but doesn’t say anymore as Sylvain turns back to Claude. “So anyway, I heard about you and Hilda Goneril, and I just wanted to let you know that, yeah, she’s pretty alright, but you should be careful around her.”

Claude racks his brain and vaguely recalls a time when Hilda mentioned Sylvain being her boyfriend of the week. “Okay?”

“I don’t want to say she’s a gold digger or anything,” he says. “But she really only dates guys so they’ll buy stuff for her and let her cheat off of them.”

Claude considers Hilda one of his best friends since he started at Garreg Mach, but he also can look at her honestly enough to know Sylvain isn’t lying. “Well, I’m poor and dumb, so I’ll probably be fine, right Lysithea?”

Lysithea responds with a roll of her eyes.

“Thank you for your support.”

Sylvain smirks at them. “Alright, just thought I’d give you a heads up.”

“Appreciated,” Claude says before Sylvain walks off. He looks back to Lysithea. “Didn’t know that many people thought me and Hilda were a thing.”

“Rumors are childish, so I don’t really listen to them—”

“You’re fourteen.”

“—fifteen, and I have heard quite a few about you and Hilda sneaking off together and hanging out at that one place that some teenagers go to, you know, kiss with tongues and stuff.”

Claude smiles at her. “Yup, those wild and crazy teenagers tongue kissing—”

Lysithea turns a shade redder. “You know what I mean! And it is weird that you and Hilda just go there. I feel like I’m the only person who knows you guys aren’t,” she gestures vaguely and blushes harder. “Leonie’s convinced, and she just kept complaining about you two ditching us at lunch today. I had to lie and say you were working on a project for Professor Hanneman so they wouldn’t assume anything.”

“Thanks for covering us, but we had to have a secret meeting,” he says. “And no, you can’t know what about.”

Claude starts to walk off, and Lysithea chases after him, stopping her feet in protest. “That’s not fair!”

“Fourteen—”

“Fifteen!”

“Year olds are innocent creatures. You’ll understand in a few years.”

She huffs again and kicks at his feet in an attempt to trip him up. Claude laughs and kicks her back.

“Well, you know what I do know?” Lysithea says. “Since you and Hilda are such good, secret friends, you should have stood up for her.”

“Nah, Hilda can handle herself. Were you there the time she suplexed a girl going for the same necklace as her at the mall?”

“No, because you never invite me anywhere!”

Claude laughs and pitches his voice a few octaves higher to mimic Lysithea’s usual rejection based on her chronically busy studying schedule. 

When they walk past Edelgard and her friends back at it at the front of the school, Claude keeps his head down and doesn’t make eye contact while Lysithea takes a handout Edelgard, herself, passes to her and signs something on a clipboard. When she returns, Claude sings, “You’re going to get in trouble.”

“I won’t if enough people do it.”

“Enough people won’t.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I kind of do, though.”

Lysithea frowns. 

-

The car next to them is rocking back and forth. Hilda leans over to turn up the radio. “I wish we could just watch a movie in one of our rooms like normal people,” she says.

“And deal with Seteth and the impropriety of a boy and a girl staying in each other’s rooms past curfew? I think we’d kill the poor man, Hilda.”

“And then we could watch as many movies as we want.”

Claude laughs and leans back and sets his seat to recline further back. 

It is a nice spot, and if they were alone, Claude could even see how it’d be romantic. A hillside overlooking the lights of the city, but the stars above them still manage to glow so strongly. It’s less romantic when he spotted Sylvain driving a car heading to the same spot and he waved to them. 

“I did invite Marianne over to a sleepover next weekend,” Hilda says. “Leonie and Lysithea will be there, too, but still. Progress?”

“Progress,” Claude agrees. “And did you pick a horse themed movie?”

“No, I think that might be too obvious,” she says. “Lysithea can keep a secret, but if Leonie figures it out, who knows how it will spread from there.”

“Leonie can keep her mouth shut.”

“Normally, yeah, but have you seen her at her games? When she gets fired up, it all comes pouring out.” Hilda laughs. “Were you there at the game when coach Alois had to put her in time out for swearing out the other team? It got so bad, Lorenz put his hands over Lysithea’s ears.”

“Bet she loved that.”

“She tried to bite him.”

Claude laughs. “Those two are like siblings, huh? Except Lorenz can never get it through his head that she’ll kill him if he keeps up his protective big brother act.”

“It is kind of sweet, though,” Hilda says. “And funny. Like yesterday when he was trying to get her to eat vegetables at lunch?”

“He wasn’t wrong. She is going to lose all of her teeth if she keeps up her cake only diet.”

Hilda grins. “Isn’t that what you said at the time? Like, ‘hey, I like listening to Lorenz as much as the next guy, but he’s got a point.’”

“Hey, when he’s right, he’s right.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I know what you’re trying to do.”

“Why, I’m not trying to do anything.”

“If I had popcorn, I’d throw it at you.”

“Ooh, that’s a good idea. Next time we hang out, let’s make popcorn first. Or get more of the communion wavers.”

“Hilda, I think you’re getting addicted to those things.”

“Well, if they didn’t want me to, then they wouldn’t have made Saint Seiros so tasty.”

Claude smiles. He risks a glance behind her at the still rocking car, and then shifts to stare out at the sky. “Hey, weird question,” he says. “Did you ever bring Sylvain here?”

Hilda’s eyebrows rise to her hairline. “That came out of nowhere. Uh, but no. I don’t do that.”

“Mhmm.”

“I don’t!” she says. “Not that there’s anything wrong if I did. I just, ugh—do you remember that video they show us every year in health? It’s, like, those images just come to me at the weirdest times. Like, every time I kiss a boy, all I can think of is the baby’s head starting to—”

“I think that’s a personal problem.”

“It is a personal problem!” Hilda says. “And it’s super gross. Although most boys are pretty gross kissers. Like, Sylvain was okay, but some of them just slobber all over you, and they have super chapped lips—”

“Unlike a certain horse girl we both know.”

Hilda elbows him. “Shut up.”

“I bet five dollars you know what flavor Marianne’s chapstick is.”

Hilda frowns, fidgets, then says, “Strawberry. But that’s very common flavor, so it’s not a big deal.”

“And neither is five dollars. Hand it over.”

“You’re the worst,” Hilda grumbles, rifling through her purse. 

“And you shouldn’t agree to bets you know you can’t win.”

She finds her wallet and places his winnings in his hand. “Is that Claude’s advice of the day?”

Claude grins as he pockets the money. “That’s Claude’s advice everyday.”

-

Petra manages to stop him again on his way into school in the morning. “Claude!” she calls out. “We have created new fliers. Here.”

Claude forces a smile as she forces the paper into her hands. He takes a look over her to see that whatever lecture she was forced to did nothing to damper her spirits. Today, she’s even sporting a cheap button pin that reads _Stand up for Justice_. “Ah, thanks, Petra. It looks really informative.”

Edelgard’s megaphone must have been confiscated because today she just has her hands cupped around her mouth. “We will not rest!” she shouts, her voice slightly hoarser than the day before. “We will not be silenced!”

“It is,” Petra chirps. “Bernadetta did the designing. Here you can see our grievances in red, and we have offered possible solutions next to them in green. Also, would you like to be signing our petition?”

She rummages through her papers for a clipboard Claude hadn’t noticed was at the bottom of the stack. “Nah, that’s okay,” he says. He glances around her to check up on Edelgard, busy shouting away. He lowers his voice. “By the way, you probably shouldn’t sign something like that either. No need to generate a paper trail against yourself, you know?”

Petra tilts her head, signaling she very much does not know. “I should not be signing? But Edelgard said it will—”

“Don’t mind me,” Claude says, throwing his hands up in surrender. “I’m just saying that Edelgard doesn’t always quite know what’s best for her or the people around her. I get what she’s doing here, but just make sure do what you need to. Again, just saying.”

Petra’s confusion gives way to a scowl, and she holds the fliers she was so eager to give away closer to her chest.

“We will stand in the rain and snow, we will come back every day no matter how you punish us, we will—”

“I think I will be speaking to other people,” Petra says. “Goodbye, Claude.”

He salutes her. “Sure thing, have a nice day.”

She doesn’t say anymore and turns away to get the attention of someone else who immediately tries to brush her off. Claude hurries inside and away from her disappointed gaze. 

-

Dimitri and his friend Dedue decide to join the Golden Deer’s lunch table. Claude can’t recall of any of them being particularly good friends with the pair, but he doesn’t have anything against the two either. 

It did actually start to rain that day as well, and Edelgard and her friends are busy buzzing around the cafeteria, each with a clipboard and a copy of her petition. 

Dimitri sighs. “I understand what she’s doing, but I wish she would be a little less disruptive.”

Claude blinks at him. Lorenz clears his throat. “Ah, well, from my understanding of protests, they usually are disruptive in nature.”

“Yeah,” Claude says. “That’s, uh, kind of the point.”

Dimitri shakes his head. “Still, I enjoy being at school, and this atmosphere she’s creating is just…” he sighs again. “I just wish we could all get along like we did in middle school.”

Dedue nods and places a hand on his shoulder. Claude shifts and decides to look somewhere else when Dimitri smiles up at his friend. 

“I think longing for simpler times is normal,” Lorenz says. “But as we get older, and especially when we graduate, we all have to make decisions about ourselves, and, ah—”

He stops when a shadow looms over their table, and Claude glances up to see Ferdinand armed with a clipboard and broad grin standing over them. Dorothea’s at his side, looking less enthusiastic but still trying to smile as she holds out a small basket full of pins. Claude glances inside and then back up at the two intruders to see both of them have pins identical to the one Petra was wearing this morning pinned to their uniform jackets. 

“Hello,” Ferdinand says. “Sorry to disrupt your lunch, but could we just have a moment of your time?”

“Buttons?” Dorothea says, shaking the basket so all the pins jingle against each other.

Dimitri recoils from the sound. “Ah, um, no thanks.”

Hilda hesitantly reaches for one and turns it over in her hands as if to examine the quality before putting it back. Out of the corner of his eye, Claude notices Lysithea pocketing one. 

Ferdinand doesn’t lose a step despite their lukewarm reaction. “To keep it brief, if you would like to support a few proposals to make our school a better and fairer place, please consider signing our petition.” 

He eagerly hands it to Lorenz who forces a smile. 

“So,” Hilda asks. “What exactly are you guys, you know, making better and stuff?”

Ferdinand beams as he starts to ramble a list of all of Edelgard’s demands, and yet he seems so eager that Claude has to assume his fiery spirit is genuine. Hilda hums and ahs at the right moments to keep him going while Lorenz spends enough time looking over the first page of the petition to appear polite before handing it to Claude. 

Claude glances from the few names on the page to Ferdinand and then Dorothea at his side. While Ferdinand appears lost in his own lofty words, Dorothea is firmly on the ground as she stares them down with a deeply unimpressed expression. 

“Actually,” she says, placing a hand on Ferdinand’s arm to cut him off. “Ferdie, I don’t think we’re going to have much luck here. Why don’t we go check on how Bern’s doing?”

Ferdinand appears a bit crestfallen at her words as he glances to all of them, lingering on Lorenz in particular, before taking back the clipboard Claude hands back to him. “Ah, alright.”

Dimitri sits a bit straighter. “Thank you for coming to speak to us.”

Dorothea gives him a sickly sweet smile. “And thank you oh-so much for caring about something other than yourselves.”

“Excuse me?” Dimitri says. “I think that’s a bit rude to—”

“We all know it was you,” Dorothea snaps. “You’re the one who filed the complaint with Principal Rhea and tipped off Seteth about where we were keeping our supplies. Just because you were Edie’s stepbrother for a month doesn’t mean you get to—”

Dimitri begins to stammer poor protests. Claude looks to Hilda who had the unfortunate luck to be on Dimitri’s other side as she tries to sink in on herself as much as possible. Beside her, Marianne leans over and starts whispering something in her ear. 

His real attention, however, is caught by Lorenz beckoning Ferdinand a little closer to take the petition again. He signs his name with a flourish, and Ferdinand practically glows in response. 

Dorothea’s still busy chewing out Dimitri and nearly waves Ferdinand off as he tugs at her sleeve, murmuring, “Dorothea, Dorothea, we got one!”

Ferdinand’s badgering finally convinces Dorothea to let them leave, and in their wake Dimitri looks despondently at the table. “I just want to have a nice school.” Dedue suggests the two of them leave to get some fresh air.

Once they get up from the table, Lysithea takes a moment to grab the pin from her bag and secure it to her jacket. But Claude looks to Lorenz. He lowers his voice. “You know what’s going to happen if they actually turn that thing in.”

Lorenz sighs. “I am aware, but it seemed like the right thing to do, if not for Ferdinand’s or Dimitri’s sake, then for ours.”

Claude smirks. “Took one for the team to get them to leave? How noble of you.”

Lorenz sits up a little straighter. “Well, I have strived to behave as such before.”

“A true martyr among men.”

Lorenz seems to understand he’s being made fun of then. “Claude.”

“A savoir to revival Seiros, herself—”

“You don’t even know anything about Seiros!”

“A beacon of light—”

“Claude!” Lorenz huffs. “You are impossible.”

“Hey, nothing’s impossible if you believe in yourself.”

“Absolute worst person I have ever met. An absolute scoundrel—”

“Ooh, never been called that before.”

“And a craven—”

“Don’t know what that is but okay.”

“It means,” Lysithea cuts in. “Someone who lacks courage. Is fainthearted. A coward.”

Hilda starts to snicker. Claude rolls his eyes. “Thank you, Lysi.”

She fumes. “I said not to—”

“Also who uses the word ‘craven’ anymore?” Hilda asks.

“I do,” Lorenz says. “Because that is what Claude is.”

“Listen, there’s nothing wrong with retreating to future victory,” Claude says. “Like, for example, if you just endured the awkwardness like the rest of us, you wouldn’t have signed the ‘look Seteth, I’m a troublemaker, suspend me’ petition, and when the musical rolls around, you’d have claimed the lead. Retreat now, victory later.”

Lorenz raises an eyebrow. “While I very much would like—and deserve—the lead in the spring musical, I wasn’t thinking about that at all.”

“Ah, that’s your problem. You have to think ahead more.”

Lorenz sighs. “I hardly think that is the problem. Really, it just seemed like the decent thing to do, even if it may be a bit inconvenient later.”

“And you’re so brave and un-craven to stomach that inconvenience.”

“Well,” Lysithea says. “More than you at least, Claude. And you know how I feel about supporting Lorenz.”

Lorenz balks, the others laugh, but Claude feels something start to pinch in his chest and he looks across the table to Hilda whose lips are pulled in a slight frown.

-

Claude ends up being almost the last one to leave class that day after staying behind to help Professor Manuela clean and casually drop that if she doesn’t talk to Seteth soon, she’s going to lose any mildly good singers for the musical. 

On his way out, he turns an empty hall to see Petra, struggling with her locker's combination while her arms are loaded with posters. Just a slight slip sends everything in her arms sprawling to the ground, and she lets out a quiet, exhausted sigh as she kneels to begin recollecting everything.

Claude stays concealed around his corner for one, two seconds, before he walks out to kneel beside her. 

Petra glances up to him with a questioning expression. He answers wordlessly by reaching for one of the buttons that rolled to his feet and pinning it to his jacket. 

This one says _Bravery Not Blood_.

**Author's Note:**

> And to get back into writing here is a bit of a silly Catholic School AU, given that they already sort of go to Catholic school. Plus the image of Claude and Hilda stealing and eating communion wafers was too funny for me to get out of my head, haha.


End file.
